The Forgotten Ones
by Phoenix Call
Summary: "He didn't deserve it. It was his fault. He couldn't cry. He wouldn't. That would make it hurt. That would make it real. 'Of course we'll take him. He'll be safe here…' What a lie. Nowhere was safe." When the world turns upside down, the only thing left to cling to is hope. When that is gone, pray there is someone to catch you as you fall. Modern. Oneshot series. Ophanage AU.
1. Chapter 1

AN: So, I've been watching the ATLA Fanfom for a while now and decided that I sould finally contribute so here is my first ATLA fic. It was written more as an experiment to sort of dip my feet in the fandom. It is a series of one shots with a mostly general plot and the first several will be in chronological order. It's a modern AU based off of a what-if of a multi chaptered modern AU I'm writing. I know the characters are slightly OOC. Keep in mind that they are in very different situations than they were in ATLA and some have had to go through some really rough stuff they didn't have to in the series so I tried to keep there characters as canon as possible while also staying realistic. You'll get the rest once you start reading. Enjoy! And feedback is always appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Avatar.

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**Friday. 2300. Chicago, Illinois.**

Zuko sat quietly on the windowsill, legs drawn up loosely, eyes staring blankly out at the storm-gray sky.

_"…accident…hospital…critical…might not wake up…"_

Zuko continued to stare, whispers washing over him from afar, but he was too numb to feel their sting, too hurt and broken to feel anything but empty.

_"…needs care…here is close…nowhere else…"_

The rain continued to pour, falling from the sky as if to vent all the pain and sorrow Zuko kept inside. He couldn't cry. He _wouldn't_. That would make it hurt. That would make it _real_.

_"Of course we'll take him. He'll be safe here…"_

What a lie. Nowhere was safe.

Footsteps approached quietly. A light hand was laid on his shoulder. He was too numb to remember to shrug it off.

"The orphanage has agreed to keep you here for some time, until anything changes." The voice was soft, kind, and motherly. He didn't deserve it. It was his fault.

"We'll send a man over with your things. You can visit the hospital, but only when your caretakers take you. No running off, no funny business, and stay out of trouble." The voice was sterner, but he could hardly care. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. _He_ didn't matter.

"Take care, okay?"

He made no response. The hand stayed there for a moment more before sliding off. Footsteps retreated. There were a few more murmurs and the door closed.

Zuko stayed there far into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews are muc appreciated. Enjoy!

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**Saturday. 1130. Chicago, Illinois.**

Whispered murmurs came from down the hall. The rustle of cloth then a thunk and, "Ow! Cut that out, I'm trying to see."

Okay that was it.

Sokka rounded the corner to see…_okay. _What _are they _doing?

"Is that him?"

"Yeah, he came…would you cut that _out_?"

Sokka cleared his throat. The children down the hall jumped at the sound, falling over each other, legs tangling in an effort to scramble to their feet and look innocent. Sokka rolled his eyes. "_What_ is going on here?"

At least the little buggers had the decency to look _sheepish_.

The kids gulped and traded glances. Nobody wanted to talk. Sokka decided that was enough Mr. Nice Guy.

"Max?"

The eight year old squirmed in his spot, his buddies in crime not-quite-glaring at his bowed head. It was always the same story. At least Max had enough conscience to tell the _truth_.

"W-we just wanted to _see_. The caretakers were talking and they said he…last night…we just wanted to know what happened." The poor bugger was wringing his hands. Sokka almost felt guilty. _Almost_.

"You know you're not supposed to be down here."

"I know…it's just…he has this _really big scar_ on his face and…"

Okay, now Sokka was a bit intrigued. _New kid_, he guessed from Max's nervously broken account of their evil-doings. _Wonder how old he is…or why he's here._

But that didn't change the fact that these kids had broken the rules. _Again_. And he had to deal with them. _Again_. It wasn't that he enjoyed being the bad guy little demon kids conspired to tie up and hang from the rafters in the dining hall in his sleep, but someone had to do it. And it was _always_ him. He was beginning to see a pattern here. He didn't like it. One bit.

"Alright, you little demon spawn, get upstairs and stay there, or the caretakers hear about this. And _don't do it again_. Is that clear?"

A murmured chorus of, "Yes, sir," and the mischief makers were off like a cannon. Sokka sighed and rolled his eyes.

A tap on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He heard a giggle and whipped around. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Sorry, couldn't resist," came the amused voice of his little sister. "Had to deal with the Little Demons again, I see. What was it this time?"

"You know they're not supposed to be here, Katara, especially with what I heard…" He trailed off, scratching his neck beneath the tie he used to hold back his mohawk.

"New arrival?" she asked, her interest showing. Sokka looked at her and groaned.

"No."

"But-"

"No. I'm sorry, sis, but we're not gonna. We'll see him later, anyway."

Katara gave him a pleading look.

"No," he stressed firmly.

_No, please, _not_ the eyes. Anything but the eyes._

No such luck. He felt himself cave.

"Alright," he sighed. He was going to regret this. "But _don't_ get caught."

Her face lit up. Alright, he may regret this later but for now…

_Seeing that smile is worth it. It's been too long._

"And I'm coming with you."

His fourteen-year-old little, conniving sister only beamed at him as they set off down the hall, being as quiet as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

Standard dosclaimers apply. Reviews are much appreciated. Enjoy!

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**Saturday.1135. Chicago, Illinois.**

_Red, red, red, black, red…_

Zuko mentally categorized each item by color as he hung his clothes up in the small closet in his nearly as small room. He let the mundane task lull him into a state of numb calm as he tried to sort out his feelings. Everything had happened so fast...

_Blue, black, red like blood…_

Zuko slammed his fists down on the bed, fists gripping innocent fabric like a lifeline. He clenched his teeth trying to shut out the images.

_Blood, blood everywhere. Blood on the streets, soaking into fabric and leather and hair. Blood on his hands, blood pooling on the concrete floor…there was so much blood. Too much blood…_

A loud thud yanked him out of his memories and he nearly jumped ten feet, whipping to face the open door. Two very tan teenagers stood watching him, looking rather sheepish. Then they froze and stared. Stared at him, at his face, at his-

"What are you doing here?" That came out a bit more sharply than he had intended. But at this point he really couldn't care.

The younger of the two, a brunette of about fourteen, snapped out of her daze and flushed slightly. "I'm sorry, we were just…we heard you had come here last night and-"

"Get out," he snapped rather harshly, and immediately regretted it as her face went from embarrassed to hurt.

"No, no! I'm…I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" Zuko broke himself off and plopped rather unceremoniously onto his bed, his head falling into his hands.

"I'm just a little confused and tired and…" Zuko took a deep breath unsure of what to say. He didn't want to hurt the girl, but he didn't want to talk either. He just wanted to be alone until he could figure this all out.

It was the boy who spoke next. "I'm Sokka and this is my sister Katara. I'm just down the hall and my sister's in the next wing over."

Silence. It took Zuko a moment to realize they were watching him expectantly. It was his turn to flush. "Zuko," he said, but didn't offer any more.

The girl, Katara, looked at him with concern. "You know, it's alright to feel hurt. You don't have to bottle it up inside. If you don't talk about what's wrong-"

Zuko felt a sudden inexplicable rage fill him and he leapt from the bed, fists clenched and glared at the siblings. "I'm fine! There's nothing wrong! I'm not hurt or-nothing's wrong! And I don't need your help!"

Zuko punched the wall hard enough to dent, plaster shooting out from his fist. The siblings jumped. Silence.

"Zuko I-"

"Get out," his voice was low and deadly.

"Zuko, I just want to help-"

"I don't want your help!" he yelled. "Just _leave me alone!_"

"Katara," Sokka said sternly, glaring at the other teenage boy before bodily dragging his sister out of the doorway and down the hall.

He heard a door close but he stood still, panting. It was minutes before he moved, slowly pulling his fist out of the wall to assess the damage.

_Blood…blood everywhere_…

Zuko stifled a shout and collapsed into a tight ball on the floor, rocking slowly as shudders ran through him and the horrors of only two nights past played before his clenched eyelids. It was only after nearly an hour of silence that he realized that he had never been angry at the blue-clad siblings.

He was angry at himself.

Zuko clenched his hands in his hair and tried not to cry.


End file.
